Every once in a while, something happens to reassure your confidence in the human race. Kindness is one of those things. I didn’t attend church this past Sunday, partly because of my inability to hear everything and partly because emotions have been building up over time and it seems the waterworks open up more readily. I watched church online. The message was about being afraid, as the disciples sat in a locked room after the death of Jesus. The unknown can do that to a person. One week ago, we were sitting in the sanctuary, praising God for His ultimate plan of salvation. This Sunday was filled with fear of the unknown. My daughter came over to visit after church and we exchanged some of the things going on in both of our lives. We laughed, we talked, and we shed a few tears.
Personally, Paul and I are in the process of a do-over, mostly due to age, illness and lack of stamina to fulfill the everyday tasks of being homeowners. As we look ahead, there are a million questions. Will we have to rely on others to care for us? Will our money run out before we do? Will we be able to continue our social activities as usual? When work has been the norm for your entire life, it’s scary to sit back and relax or smell the roses. Even when you think you have it all together, fear is not uncommon.
Yesterday, a friend invited me to lunch just to chat. We totally enjoy each other’s company. Hearing improves when I don’t have to sort through a number of voices. We laughed, talked, laughed some more, shed a tear or two and generally had a lovely time. At the end of the meal the waitress informed us that our bill had been paid by another customer. I’ve heard about this random act of kindness before, but never experienced it. It got me thinking.
Lives change drastically as we age. We hold onto things of the past. We try to maintain friendships but lack the ability to reach out to new ones. We become complacent and sedentary. Still, even though we’re both in our 80s, we still hang onto life. Our future is guaranteed. We know we have a place waiting in heaven. So. what is the solution for this feeling of depression and anxiety? The lessons learned in the last two days are these – Don’t hide behind closed doors. We have an amazing message to share with others. This gift from God is more precious than silver or gold. Paying it forward is a common term referring to being able to help someone experience an unconditional gift. Our greatest gift is Jesus. Tell others about Him. Pay it forward.
I used to be able to tell you if it was Monday or Friday. I could even spout out the date in a flash. When you get older, days often meld into each other, because you aren’t on a specific schedule. They like to tell us that our memory is failing or that we’re getting old, but the truth is we lose track of the daily routine – the nine to five thing – the rush to get to work. When you’re retired you lose track of a lot of things – not because your mind is addled, but because you’re no longer required to think about them. Still, we have to remember what day it is, so we can take out the trash for pickup – make all our doctor’s appointments – know when it’s Sunday so we can figure out the rest of the week.
When you have a regular job, you need a planner or a calendar, which is usually on your phone – so there should be no excuse for missing an appointment or getting to work on time. Monday is the hardest. You’ve just come off a weekend of activities with the family, hours consumed by some self-absorption, or just taking it easy. It takes a while to re-program our brains into work mode. Within two short days, we’ve convinced ourselves that we require more sleep. We feel we’re entitled because we worked hard all week. Weekends are supposed to be a time of regeneration, but there are things to do which we’re unable to do while working. Like cleaning the house, cutting the grass, getting the car washed, planning and preparing meals for the week, spending time with family, enjoying other’s company, doing the laundry, grocery shopping, going to sporting events, taking kids to their activities and the list goes on ad infinitum. We try to cram so much into the weekend, that Monday’s really start to look like a day of rest.
Organizing your time doesn’t help, because things come up – like needing medical attention, an unexpected visitor, an unplanned call for help. It’s no wonder that by the time we reach my age, time is really immaterial. We look at each day as a bonus. We thank God for giving us another one. We make the most of each minute we have left.
Enjoy your Monday, Tuesday and so on. You’re going to need to rest so you’ll be prepared for next weekend.
Mountainous clouds entwine in a sky of black, Filling with tears from the Lord of all. He sees and He knows our tribulation. The depth of our sorrow is in His hands. There is nothing we can do to take away our sadness. We cannot change the course of our lives, But He has turned His tears to cleansing waters Through the death of His beloved Son. Washed – forgiven for sin’s deadly pain, We can dance in His refreshing rain.
“Both old and young alike ought to seek wisdom: the former in order that, as age comes over him, he may be young in good things because of the grace of what has been, and the latter in order that, while he is young, he may at the same time be old, because he has no fear of the things which are to come.” Epicurus
I’ve been thinking about the whole concept of wisdom and aging lately. Some things that used to bother me a lot, as a young woman, no longer seem important. The fear of failure, the agony of defeat, all the stuff that we put so much importance into, is like King Solomon’s reference to chasing the wind.
I’ve learned a few things in my almost 82 years of growing up. I realize that worry doesn’t accomplish anything. It just gives you more wrinkles. God tells us to place our troubles on Him, but for women, it seems difficult to let go of our worries. I guess it’s a mother thing. I’ve learned that God has a plan laid out for our lives – in spite of our efforts to do our own thing. I’ve seen doors close in my lifetime, only to have more important and better doors open. I’ve witnessed the passion of a young marriage, grow into a more sedate lifestyle, yet one that is full and rich in countless ways. I’ve watched my children and grandchildren grow into responsible adults and am amazed at how God is working in their lives. I see history repeating itself – the same mistakes being made over and over again – a future that appears all too dark, yet a sparkle of light at the end of the tunnel. Being optimistic is so much a part of being wise. Knowing there is an end in sight gives us hope and we need a ton of that.
The importance of growing older is that our minds are filled with countless facts. We grow physically, mentally, spiritually. We make mistakes. We stumble. We fall. We pick ourselves up and do it again and again. Life can be a series of frustrations if we don’t learn from each of those road blocks.
For some of us it takes longer to figure that out. Maybe that’s why I’m still here. Wisdom will never be completely achieved until after death, when we walk with God on a personal basis – when our prayers turn into one-on-one conversations – when eyes become opened, and all the truth of life will become completely apparent. I can’t wait for that day.
My husband and I enjoy looking out the side window of our house at the wildlife that skitter here and there. Great feats of strength are on display as these little critters teeter across electrical wires with one foot ahead of the other – balancing like a prima donna with cheeks full of hidden treasures. Those cheeks can hold more than you think possible. This spring we have a whole new family of three siblings that simply love to put on a show. I’m thinking of creating little costumes for them. Scratch that idea. My sewing machine has retired along with me.
We have named one of them, “Nutsy.” This champion of the black walnut tree has outdone himself. He hastens to carry a dumbbell consisting of two walnuts on a stem. Carefully he proceeds to the high wire and takes his first step. With each move forward, he is coaxed to a moment of terror, yet he persists. Onward he goes to the highest point, crisscrossing wires and branches, hoping not to electrocute himself in the process.
There’s another one we named “Stubby,” because of his abnormally short tail. He may have been walking behind or underneath Nutsy when his final step on the wire sent him swirling to the ground. It’s also possible that Stubby almost lost his life under the tire of an oncoming car. Maybe one of the feral cats got to him. The fact that squirrels are so agile and acrobatic, they should have their own Olympic games and be awarded medals for their performances. We could hold up little score cards from our chairs inside, indicating how excellent we thought they were.
I wonder what goes through their little minds. Probably not much, or they wouldn’t dare to do such amazing deeds. The perils of squirreling would soon diminish the entire population, if they knew what was in store for them. Still, they persist. Pressing on towards the final goal – storing those nuts for future sustenance. And God places the memory of the location of that food deeply in their minds, so they never have to go hungry. Such trust. If only we had a faith like that.
Maybe I should get a life instead of looking out the window all the time.
As I look out my window this morning, a flurry of heavy, wet snow is dusting a layer of white upon the grass. Clouds fill the sky. Snowflakes can be beautiful, each with a pattern and design of their own. It will melt before the day is over. The tiny sign of new growth forces its way to greet the sun – longing for that welcome warmth which comes from God’s own hand.
Hard boiled eggs intended for an Easter breakfast, will be tossed into the garbage today. A lost hidden Easter egg will be discovered. All that expensive chocolate will go on sale for those of us who didn’t buy any, because of the exorbitant cost. Those marshmallow Peeps will be relegated to a piece of Tupperware until they become hard enough to break a tooth. Does anyone really like those things? All the beautiful church music, flowers and other adornments will be put away and forgotten for another year. Some have overindulged and dread having to get back in the routine. Cares which we left bundled up and hidden away on Friday, have come back to smack us alongside the head and remind us of their presence. It is time for a do over. The beginning of a new week can indicate the need for change – the start of a new path – a reparation of past wrongs – the start of a different lifestyle – especially after the experience of Easter has filled our hearts with hope and joy.
As with many of our religious holidays, we sit idly and wallow in the wonderful food, the traditions of the past and the rituals. The beginnings we experience in life are a chance for us to indulge in an inauguration of sorts – a threshold to optimism. The past few days have been filled with the Christian message of hope, life eternal and forgiveness of sins. We have received the greatest gift ever from the Creator of the universe. Our life in heaven is guaranteed, but our walk on this planet will not be a cake walk. When we serve Jesus, we can expect difficulty. By following Him, we may face persecution. We will suffer. We will cry and become anxious about things. The difference for the Christian is that we have hope – not in our accomplishments or good deeds, but in God’s unconditional love for us. As you begin this week, keep the truth of Easter alive. It won’t make your walk on earth any easier, but you are guaranteed an eternity in heaven.
A short time before the women arrived to tend to the burial needs of their slain Messiah, a small earthquake shook the earth. An angel appeared on top of the stone covering the opening to the grave. He was white as snow. The stone was removed from Jesus’ protected tomb. The soldiers who were appointed to guard the tomb were shaken to the core. Their bodies seared with an unearthly light. They fell frozen to the ground. After the tomb was opened, the guards ran to tell their superiors what had happened.
The women reached the opening and seeing the empty tomb they became afraid. Their first thought had to be that someone had come in the night and stolen the body. The expensive jars of spices and burial herbs fell to the ground, and they began to cry. The sun was rising in the east. Shards of gold filled the sky, and a myriad of color filled the clouds. Where was Jesus? As the women entered the tomb, they saw the burial garments strewn across the stone slab where Jesus had been placed. The cloth that covered His face was folded neatly and placed at the top. The women didn’t understand what had happened. They had been there when Jesus was crucified. They saw His stricken body pour out every last drop of His blood. They watched helplessly as He died. Now He was nowhere to be found.
We have the blessing of knowing what happened on that day. Jesus had been resurrected from death. He was alive as He said He would be. Even though they had spent three years with Jesus, they couldn’t possibly have grasped the truth of this event. None of this made sense. How would you have responded?
Across refreshing waters pure, the sign remains in place. The glorious cross of Jesus, Christ, transcends both time and space. Instrument of execution, stained with blood, sweat and tears, A symbol of the sinless lamb, promised throughout the years.
The sign of His suffering and pain, punishment He sustained. The spikes that invaded His flesh, the scars that would remain. Spiny thorns pierced His Holy head, the people mocked and jeered. Yet submissive the Lamb went on, His resolve never veered.
In words that He spoke from that cross, He tended to His flock, No care for His own suffering, His body now in shock. He lifted His powerful voice, invited one to hear, To join Him that day ain His realm, alive and without fear.
He prayer that God’s will would be done, He breathed His last and died. The people thought it was useless, they wondered, and they cried. Three days later He conquered death, rising again to life. He did what He said he would do, redeemed us from our strife.
The cross in itself is ugly, a symbol of our death, but the resurrection glory, assures us of new breath. Projecting our future story and how our Shepherd true. Designed this plan for everyone, no more would sin accrue.
His life for ours was given there, upon those blood-stained beams, so we could share in His kingdom, and live beyond our dreams. Peace everlasting and love will reign. Sorrow we will not feel. The cross of Christ is our refuge, through His life we are healed.
And when the cross is our vision, when fear assaults our soul. There is nothing more sufficient, than Jesus’ final goal. The empty tomb, the risen Lord, is all the proof we need. To know that we’re forgiven of all our sinful deeds.
Blood flows from a beaten, smitten corpse, hanging on an instrument of torture.
This One not taking life, but giving it through holy, precious blood.
That is righteousness, bought and paid for the ugliest and most sinister of us.
Complete payment for all.
The victory over death has been accomplished.
Refreshing,
Cleansing rain falls softly on an eager earth,
Thirsting for relief,
Longing for renewal and rebirth.
The tears of God bring respite for the dying soul,
He gave His only Son to fill a gaping hole,
The hole that widens every day,
When we forget to turn to Him and pray,
As branches dance and lightening fills the air,
I think of Him who takes away each care.
We see the need for God’s power to inspire us once again,
To cleanse our hearts and wash our dark souls in His refreshing rain.
When bruised and injured we do fall, before our Father’s throne And look upon the lamb once slain for all sins to atone, Our pain is nothing next to His, our wounds are all but naught. The blood He shed, His torturous death, were all with insult fraught, But still the Son of God went forth in dignity and strength, He took our place and bore the cross until His dying breath, Three days went by. He shunned the grave and rose to life again. He did this so I too could claim a life in heaven with Him. Sweet Jesus you have walked the road that I deserved to go. You did this oh so willingly and You knew just what to do So when I’m feeling battered and pulled in many ways, Remind me of the walk you took and please accept the praise.
CASSIUS – A ROMAN CENTURION – WITNESS TO THE CRUCIFIXION
He was a man around the same age as the one hanging on the center cross. This soldier was a leader of men. He’d come by his position through the ranks, after several years serving in the military. The requirements to become an officer were often difficult. The candidate had to be able to read so he could carry out written orders. He needed to be extremely fit and strong to wield the sword and carry the heavy shield. In addition his troops were well disciplined and ready. He was a man who followed orders and executed them to the letter.
That day he was in charge of a crucifixion. Three men were to be executed. The cross was the instrument of torture used for this horrible death. It was designed to support the body enough so that the flesh wouldn’t tear away from the nails, yet it was positioned in such a way that the victim would slowly suffocate because of lack of support and oxygen flow to the lungs. It was a slow and painful death.
Soldiers are used to seeing the ugly side of life. When in battle, they’re subjected to death, suffering, bloodshed and adrenaline rising to the limit, but this was different. These men had been accused of crimes against the government and had to be dealt with. Just another day for a soldier and officer of the state – nothing like the field of battle and yet a battle was being waged at that very moment – one for the souls of men.
These three victims were laid out on their crosses. Soldiers hoisted the beams to an upright position and each body let out a gasp of pain as the air was sucked from their lungs for a moment. They waited to die.
This one in the center had already gone through hours of torture. He had suffered the tearing of His flesh by the scourge – a beating that would have killed most. A crown of gnarled thorns was pushed into His head, causing drops of blood to drip into his bludgeoned, swollen eyes. He’d been on public display, humiliated and spat upon. He carried the weight of His own cross to His execution.
The soldiers sat below the cross and gambled for the seamless, homespun robe of purple which had been placed on the back of the supposed king of the Jews. They laughed and enjoyed the moment. Finally, the sky began to fill with darkness as the man uttered His final words. “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”
Cassius was sure the man had breathed His last, but to be sure, he brandished his sword and sliced the side of the one they called Jesus. Every last drop of blood had bled out, leaving the “King of the Jews” dead. The earth began to shake as Jesus died that day. Rocks came tumbling down. Lightening pierced through the heavy sky. The heavy curtain leading to the Holy of Holies in the temple was torn in two. The centurion looked upon the face of the stricken soldier on the cross and knew that He was more than just a man as he declared, “Surely, this was the Son of God!”
The last few days of Holy Week are packed with so much. On Thursday, He washed His disciples’ feet as a servant would. The institution of the Lord’s Supper occurred – a miracle meal that continues today. Jesus prepared His followers for what was about to happen. He foretold His betrayal and denial. He gave them a new commandment to follow – to love one another as He first loved. They went to the Garden of Gethsemane – a place of refuge for Jesus. He prayed feverishly that His Father would change His plans. A mob entered the garden, led by Judas, who betrayed his master with a kiss. Peter tried to fend off the assailants by cutting off the ear of a servant, Malchus. The Messiah gave us one more miracle, by restoring that ear. Jesus was arrested, His followers fled. He was bound and taken to the house of the high priest to be judged. These events were all intricate parts of God’s greater plan of salvation through His only begotten Son. The events of the next day would prove to be anything but good.
I try to imagine what it was like to be alive during this time in history. The events of Holy Week are clearly written in the Bible, so we have proof, because the Bible is God’s inspired voice. He has given us a clear picture of what happened and why it did. Jesus wasn’t destined to become a martyr. He came with a specific mission. All these things needed to happen in order for His Father’s plan to reach fruition. The redemption of mankind would be achieved as promised.
The time was right. The setting was filled with the richness of a thriving metropolis, much like today. There was no internet, no technology, no concert halls where He could speak. His ministry took place in the countryside – at a friend’s wedding – in the streets where the neediest resided. He traveled by foot. He fished for His dinner. He weathered storms. He got tired. He was like any other human being, yet He never was overtaken by sin.
What an amazing gift our God has blessed us with. The promised Messiah came to live with His creation. He suffered and died for us. He conquered death. He returned to Heaven and has prepared a place for each of us. I know that my Redeemer lives.
He was one of the most dazzling of God’s creation. He was called, Lucifer, the son of the morning, the day star. He was there at the beginning – he’s been around throughout history and still exists today. He has charisma – he’s flashy and intriguing – he had wisdom, power, good looks, but he made one huge mistake – He thought he was better than God.
He knew Jesus would come someday. It was all part of God’s promise. He may have been recalling the words, “He will crush your head, and you will strike his heel.” He was then sentenced to a life outside of heaven where he would roam aimlessly. He then became the prince of darkness. God didn’t make it easy for him, but he still had his buddies – the ones who followed him and were doomed to the same fate. They all relished the thought of bringing others down with them.
All good stories require a protagonist and an antagonist. In this factual story about good and evil we see Jesus as the Son of God who willingly gave His life for all humanity. He conquered death, so that those who believed in Him would share in His heavenly kingdom. The antagonist is Satan. He is our enemy. He is bent on our destruction and an eternity in hell for those who choose his path.
The journey through Holy Week gives us prime examples of the devil’s presence. There were the evil leaders of the temple, who felt Jesus was a threat to them. There were the skeptics, the naysayers, those who thought Jesus was just another magician. There were those within His own tribe of disciples – Judas, the betrayer – Peter, the denier – Thomas, the doubter – and those who ran away to hide, when Jesus was arrested. There, hiding in the shadows was the protagonist, Satan. He knew his time was coming to a close. His future would destroy any hope he might have originally had about taking God’s place. He continues to wallow in darkness and his only satisfaction comes from those who join in his misery.
Jesus, the perfect Son of God, took on the battle against sin without question. He took that undeserved road to Golgotha. He suffered the torture of the Roman scourge. He was pinned to a cross to die. His lifeless body was interred in a borrowed tomb. Three days later He overcame death and came back to life. His story will not die, because it is the truth. Good triumphs over evil. Jesus crushed Satan’s head. Take that, you big bully!
It’s easy to see why we need someone to rescue us from the ugliness which has covered the world. Identity theft has run amok – human slavery still exists as children are sold into prostitution – morality is at an all-time low – everything except the One True God is worshipped – the criminals are now heroes, and the heroes are crooks. Lives are spent fighting continuing wars. Lives are cut short before they have a chance to breathe, because they might prove to be an inconvenience. Lives are shortened at the end for the same reason. How is it possible to survive where it seems there is no peace – no love – no hope?
We need a Savior not because we deserve it, but because we have turned so far away from what God wants and expects from us. Our lives are increasingly being covered with scum and depravity – hunger and homelessness in a land of plenty. It didn’t just happen over night. It has insidiously maneuvered its way into our lifestyle, our civilization, our homes, even our churches.
We could give up. We could let the world overtake us, but what would be the consequence of that? God’s Word tells us that the wages of sin is death. We don’t have the means to buy our way out. There is no amount of human knowledge, wisdom or strength to cover the cost. The only way for us to escape is through our Savior, Jesus, Christ.
Is there hope in this disgusting, sinful world? No! It comes as a free gift from God when His own flesh and blood died to set us free – to pay the ransom we could never pay – and conquer death to show us that we would receive eternal life through Him.
Our Savior will return again to take us to heaven. Come quickly, Lord, Jesus!
Yesterday, we celebrated the final entrance of Jesus into Jerusalem. He was honored with shouts of “Hosanna,” as he rode in on a donkey. In a matter of days, the crowd would turn on Him and chant, “Crucify Him, crucify Him.” We’ve all seen evidence of herd mentality or peer pressure and maybe that’s why this turn of events was so important. Beyond that thought, the plan originated by God Himself was culminating, just as He designed. Our Savior, our King, our Jesus, would face false accusations, untrue charges and the execution of a criminal. Why would we celebrate such an event?
This plan of God’s was instituted in the Garden of Eden, after Adam and Eve became vulnerable to the attack of Satan. This fallen angel was determined to take God’s place, but God had other ideas. From that day on, His plan for salvation was established. In all the historical writings of the Old Testament, we see stories of God’s commands, His requirements of us, His expectations and the eventual failures of those same people. We also read about mankind’s inability to live up to God’s perfect plan for our lives. We continue to think we can outthink God. We continue to follow the world, rather than His laws. When Jesus came as our substitute, we received God’s love in an unconditional form. His story was foretold in those early writings. He took on the task of living a perfect life. He was fully human, but without sin. He died so we could live. He rose from death. By doing so, we have the promise of eternal life. That’s definitely worth celebrating.
Looking beyond the suffering, the torture, the blood and nails that pierced Him, we have hope. God loves the world so much that He died for it. His life didn’t end at the cross and because of that we can be assured of a future beyond the grave. When our time comes, when death is imminent, we can also know that Jesus’ has taken the sting of death away so that we can someday meet Him face to face.
Don’t you just love Pinterest? Usually, my endeavors at making a spectacular table for Easter falls far short of the images you see in the first picture. The ideas always look so creative and seem like they would be easy, but not so much in my kitchen. We’re only a day away from Palm Sunday and the triumphal entry into Jerusalem by Jesus and His followers. For some that means an end to what they’ve given up for the past 40 days, while others prepare for a week leading up to the cruel treatment of Jesus, his death and resurrection. Lent will be over, and the celebration of His Resurrection and our salvation will begin.
In the olden days, Easter was a day of great celebration. My sister, my mom and I would all get new dresses and shoes. We’d don our Easter bonnets, put on our white gloves and patent leather shoes, and off to church we’d go. We’d then have a wonderful meal with other family members and overload on jellybeans and chocolate bunnies.
When we began our own family, the traditions continued. We’d go to church in new clothes. The kids would hunt for Easter eggs in the backyard. Plastic grass would be strewn throughout the house. Easter is also a time to celebrate spring and the end of a long time in the snowy desert. This year, the winter snow waited until the first week of spring! I usually planned a special meal, served on the family China along with silverware that needed to be polished each year. Many of the fancy items on the dinner table have been stored away and aren’t used anymore. Gone are those days. We now have adult children with extended families, which we must share for the day. When the grandchildren were younger, we continued with the egg hunt and fancy meal, but now we use paper plates and plastic silverware. Times change, but the season never does.
We no longer put on a big spread for important holidays. Things change when you get older. Chocolate comes in the form of bunnies and eggs. Jellybeans stick to your dentures. Sugary Peeps will turn hard in a week and taste much better after drying out. Pies will be baked or purchased. Hot cross buns and coconut covered Easter bunny cakes will pop up for dessert. Eggs will be hidden and searched for. The missing ones will show up in a few months. We no longer use hard boiled eggs for obvious reasons. New clothing will be purchased at high prices. It’s another consumer holiday which beckons greeting cards and gifts. Unfortunately, the true reason this holiday is so special to Christians, seems to get lost in all the commercial trappings.
When we place so much importance on the flashiness of Easter, we lose the true joy that comes from it. This week, prepare your hearts for this amazing gift which God provided for all mankind. The gift comes with no strings attached. Pinterest can’t begin to compare.
For the past month or more, the golf courses in our area have been open and are being used by many. The grass has not yet revived, so instead of meeting someone on the 9th green, it’s more like a rendezvous on the brown.
I’ve not played golf for decades. The last time, I was the mother of three young children and wore a wig that day, since my hair wasn’t going to cooperate no matter what. This was to be a short escape – a quiet respite for me – away from the children for a few hours. Time would be well spent with my only sibling. I actually used to be a pretty good golfer, but that particular day would dash any hopes of ever becoming part of the LPGA.
The course was on was a series of winding paths and intermittent hills, so we opted for a cart rather than walking. We were close to the 18th hole when it happened. We got into the cart, started it up and went sailing down the hill. It soon became apparent that the cart didn’t have working brakes. As my life swiftly passed before my eyes, I was convinced that I was about to die. We hit a tree, and everything went flying. Golf clubs scattered everywhere along with a few toys which had been earlier stuffed into the bag by my children. My wig sat cockeyed upon my head. We lived to see another day, but I was so embarrassed when a young man (I later discovered he was one of the Green Bay Packers) came running to our aid. He began to pick things up and noticed some of the toys on the ground. He politely asked if they belonged to us.
I must confess – I’m not a very good liar – but I simply couldn’t bring myself to admit they were mine. That, in addition to my unusual appearance, must’ve given him a lot to talk about back at the clubhouse. Maybe this is why I have such a hard time with R & R. I can handle rest, but relaxation conjures memories I’d sooner forget.
The story of Jesus’ ministry and time on earth is rich in events of everyday living. Some stories are in the Bible, some are made up, but through this series I’m simply trying to imagine what it would be like to live in that time and actually meet the Son of God – face to face.
SAMUEL – A RICH, YOUNG MAN
I am a man of wealth. I’m also Jewish and a Roman citizen. Some would say I was born with a silver chalice in my mouth. My family follows all the traditions of the Jewish religion. We keep the law of Moses to perfection. The commandments of God were drilled into us as children at the temple. You could say I have it all. I own several horses, a chariot and a home of my own on my father’s property.
As I sit at my window each morning, I witness the sun rising over the street. The city is coming to life. Merchants set up their wares for the visitors in town for the Passover celebration. I often watch as each new religious zealot or activist passes by. There are many of them. I suppose the lower classes need something to hang onto. Many live in squalor while others just get by. Then there are the rich. I’m not under the thumb of the Roman government as long as I pay the taxes due and donate to various projects. Corruption is everywhere and even though I could pay my way through life, something seems to be missing. Crime is at an all-time high and the Roman soldiers have difficulty controlling some of the mobs.
It seems the laws have no bearing anymore. I can’t complain, because I have the means to make it through this life without a problem. The government, the city officials and leaders, even the higher ups in the church appear to be on the take, while the average person struggles for his daily bread. If you have money, you can buy your way out of any situation.
When Jesus came to Jerusalem. He brought His entourage of close friends. A massive crowd followed Him as He preached to both rich and poor. His voice reached my window, and I needed to hear more. I quickly joined the crowd, pushing my way closer until I was right next to Him. His words were filled with promises for a better life – for freedom from tyranny and oppression – for a place where people could live as equals. I’d never seen such honesty and purity on a human countenance. He spoke to the church leaders who were trying to trick Him into saying something that would lead to His imprisonment. To them He was not only a threat, but a rabble rouser. Eventually they would rise up and accuse Him of blasphemy.
I had a question of my own. “What must I do to obtain eternal life?”
Jesus asked if I was willing to give up my life of wealth to follow Him. His eyes pierced my soul as He looked deeply into mine. I was stunned by his comment. How could I give up all that I had? He was asking me to make a huge sacrifice. I went back to my home completely discouraged. Was I walking away from the greatest treasure ever? Did I do the right thing? Was it because I refused to give up all that I own or was it because my faith wasn’t strong enough to rely totally on Him? I will ponder these questions for the rest of my days.
As I reach the end of my years, I find I have a lot of good information stored up in this old decrepit mind of mine. If I don't write it all down, it may vanish and no one will have the advantage of my thoughts. This is why this blog exists. I love the Lord, Jesus with all my heart and soul. I know I'm undeserving of all He's done for me, but I also know that His love is beyond my comprehension.
I've always wanted to write. I never kept diaries, but tucked my thoughts in my head for future reference. I use them now in creating stories, plays, poetry and my blog.
I continue to learn every day. I believe the compilation of our time spent with God will have huge affect on the way we live. I know I'm a sinner and I need a Savior. I have One through Jesus, Christ.
My book, "Stages - a memoir," is about the seven stages of life from the perspective of a woman. It addresses all the things girls and women go through in life as they travel it with Jesus, and it is available on Amazon.com.
Life is a patchwork of moments — laughter, solitude, everyday joys, and quiet aches. Through scribbled stories, I explore travels both far and inward, from sunrise over unfamiliar streets to the comfort of home. This is life as I see it, captured in ink and memory. Stick around; let's wander together.
atimetoshare.me 
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